


Live a Bittle

by emtzalex



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 19:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emtzalex/pseuds/emtzalex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bitty and Jack go to WGSS120 and an interesting discussion ensues</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live a Bittle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cloudy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudy/gifts).



“Bittle, come on, we're going to be late.”

Eric “Bitty” Bittle scrambled to pull together all of his papers for the day. After class he was going to study with Ransom and Holster, and needed everything to finish writing the paper that was due the following day. At the bottom of the stairs affecting impatience was Jack Zimmermann, the captain of the Samwell Hockey team and Bitty's classmate in WGSS120: Women, Food, and American Culture.

“I'm coming, Jack,” Bitty shouted as he ran out the door.

“If I had fifty bucks for every time I heard someone yell that.”

Shitty was out in the hall in a pair of boxers coming upstairs with a mug of coffee and a slice of pie Bitty had baked the night before. He gave Bitty a wink as they passed, and the former figure skater rolled his eyes after they passed. Jack was at the bottom of the steps with his hands on his hips, literally tapping his foot.

“We're going to be late.”

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann, we are not going to be late,” Bitty drawled, walking deliberately down the stairs. “We leave at the same time every day and we are always on time. What's got you losing your religion this morning?”

“I'm not sure what you just asked,” Jack responded as he opened the Haus door for Bitty and the younger player walked out past him. “What kept you up last night?”

“What makes you think I was up all night?” Bitty asked.

“I can always tell, because when you're tired or upset or drunk, you get a lot more...Southern.”

“That is a lie you carpetbagging rapscallion.”

“Yeah, like that.”

“Well, I suppose I was up a bit late last night. I kept revising my response paper for the 120, but I was also trying a new recipe for pecan pie bars.”

Jack shook his head, but he knew better than to say anything. At least he's baking something with some protein in it.

As Bitty had predicted, they reached the building where their class was a few minutes before it began, and they took their usual seats. Bitty loved the class—WGSS 120: Women, Food and American Culture—for the interesting readings and engaging conversations, and most of the lectures and discussion facilitated by Professor Marissa Washington. It was the first class he had taken in the Women, Gender and Sexuality Studies department, and it had sparked his interest in the class. When he asked Jack why he had taken it, he said that it met a history requirement and that he had wanted to take a class from Professor Washington, for a while, but they were always oversubscribed and almost impossible to get in to before your senior year (he said the last part with a bit of resentment in his voice, as Bitty had gotten in as a Sophomore, possibly by bribing the professor with a pie).

“Good morning, class,” said Professor Washington. “I hope everyone who had response papers due has submitted them. Today's topic is food and feminism in the digital age. Who wants to summarize the reading? Ms. Carter.”

“Okay, professor. The Berger? Okay. So...um, Berger is, like, a culture feminist, and is pretty pro-technology. She argues that despite the problems with the internet, it is liberating, allowing women, even women who don't work, to transcend the physical boundaries of the home, all physical boundaries, and connect in a kind of 21st century version of consciousness building. She focuses on two specific types of coming together, recipe sharing and feminist blogs. Both are ways in which women can share things important to them.”

“Very good. What did you think of it?”

“It was okay, I guess. But I think she is much too dismissive of the violence and misogyny of the internet. I know this was written before Gamer Gate, but the harassment and abuse of women online is nothing new, and she treats it as kind of growing pain, as opposed to a deeply systemic flaw. I think she's too optimistic.”

“Good point, anyone else?”

“I the article is kind of classist. It talks about democratization, not everyone has the time or knowledge or even internet access to create the content she talks about.”

“Very good. Who else? Mr. Bittle, what about you, what did you think?”

Bittle swallowed hard. “I...um...I really don't know if I buy the basic premise of the article. I'm not sure that the web really does enable communication that didn't used to exist. I mean, obviously you can share recipes faster and further, but I can tell you, my Na...my grandmother, has a box of recipe cards that she's had for at least forty years, and her mother had one to, and most of those recipes she got from other people. Women have been sharing recipes for ages, and the really could travel pretty far, if they were good. Now, if you search for a recipe on Google or Pintrist, you might find someone's blog, but you're ten times more likely to find a recipe from Food Network or another corporate website. If anything, the internet has allowed the most powerful voices to crowd out what used to be a much more democratic process.”

“Very interesting perspective, Mr. Bittle. Anyone care to disagree? Ms. Jones?”

“I don't want to disagree, I actually want to take what he said a step further. I think the same thing is true about the feminist blogs. I mean, yeah, they are a lot more widespread, but only so many people will ever write for Feministing or Jezebel, and that's going to be all most people read. It crowds out the other voices. Back in the day, anyone with a copying machine could do a radical zine, and at least some people would read them.”

“Is that so? How do you know that?”

“Well, I've...um...read it. In your book.”

Professor Washington smiled. “Other comments. Mr. Deakins?”

“Uh...”

“Mr. Deakins wrote something about the internet and sexuality in this morning's Daily. It was a very well thought out piece.”

Jacob Deakins was a senior WGSS and the Secretary of the Samwell Queer Alliance. He blushed and mumbled, “thank you.”

“He's embarrassed,” cried the woman who always sat next to him.,“about the comments on the website.”

“I'm not embarrassed.”

“What comments?” asked another student.

“Mr. Deakins, would you like to share? Or perhaps Ms. Ross.”

“He wrote about how he's tired of the hookup culture on lonelyatthelibrary.com, how no one here wants to be in a long term relationship, and he just ends up hooking up with half-closeted athletes.”

At that comment, half the room turned at looked at Jack and Bitty. Back rolled his eyes, but Bitty immediately turned a deep shade of crimson.

“But he's embarrassed, or not, because his commented on the article, telling him to stick in there and hold out for the right guy. It was cute.”

“Thank you for the summary, Ms. Ross. Anything to add, Mr. Deakins?”

“No.”

“In light of what Berger said about the democratization of the internet, and Mr. Bittle's critique of her hypothesis, do you think sites like lonely at the library and apps like Grindr make gay hookup culture more or less populist?”

Jacob thought for what felt like a very long time, before he said, “well, I think the hookup culture has always been as democratic and problematic as it is now. In some ways its worse, people put their physical, gender presentation, and racial preferences right on their profile, so, like, people of color are subject to those micro-aggressions even if they don't really want to engage the person, just look. But it also has the potential of creating a lot more spaces for all forms of gay culture, including hookup culture, which often has been and still does lack in the physical world, both due to how few gay people there are, and due to systemic homophobia. I think maybe in this case the democratization is beside the point, and the real question is whether and why and how we are replicating some of the problematic aspects of our culture online.”

“Very astute, Mr. Deakins. Are there any other comments on Berger? No? Let's move on to the next reading...”

Bitty looked down at his notebook, and noticed that he had written www.lonelyatthelibrary.com on his notebook. He panicked, and started cover over it, but before he could Jack started to look over, so he quickly turned to the next page in his notebook.

Later, Bitty was studying with the frogs at the library. He was trying to focus on his work, but Dex and Nursey kept fighting, and Chowder was shooting him these pleading looks that broke Bitty's heart. Totally unable to study, he found himself surfing the web, and almost unconsciously, going to lonely at the library. He had never heard of the site before class earlier that day.

The site was divided by university, and then subdivided by area or library. Other than that, it was very similar to craigslist, with want ads for buying and selling furniture, public events, odd jobs, and of course, hookups. Bitty quickly signed up for an account and then browsed back to the site. He clicked the m4f segment and saw a handful of posts, several of which expressed a high degree of frustration with the lack of responses on the site. The most recent post on the f4m page was from almost a month earlier.

When he opened the m4m page, his jaw dropped. The first set of results that loaded on the page, all 10 of them, were from that day. Even when he filtered it by Founders, the first 8 posts were all people looking to hook up at the library.

Bitty paused. This wasn't who he was, or wanted to be. But then he thought back to what Jacob Deakins had been saying about half-closeted athletes. Despite Samwell's well-earned reputation for openness and the really impressive number of out athletes, other gay guys just didn't show up to the Kegsters that made up what little social life Bitty had, except perhaps other athletes, who were too hard to recognize. And however open Samwell was and how fiercely Ransom and Holster and Jack wanted to protect him, it just would never feel safe to go up to another guy, especially another athlete, and make a pass at him. He understood what Jacob didn't, that hookup culture among athletes wasn't about not wanting their teammates to know they were out, it was about not being able to find other guys. And while he didn't love to admit it, part of what he was hoping would happen at college was physical.

He started browsing the profiles. One immediately caught his attention, advertising “athlete looking for athlete for some casual fun, nothing too serious or too heavy; you set the tempo and I'll dance to it.”

Bitty took a deep breath. Why not just try meeting the guy. He could always back down, especially if they met here in the library. He messaged the guy, and within seconds, got a reply. After a short back and forth, the guy invited him to meet in person in Study Room 319.

“Are you guys going to be here for a while?” he asked the Frogs.

“Probably,” said Nursey.

“Definitely,” said Dex.

“I'll be here for at least two more hours,” said Chowder.

“Thanks. I've got to, um, go get some class notes from my...class..person. The person from my class. It shouldn't take too long.”

Bitty jumped out of his seat and hurried away from the table, leaving the Frogs a bit perplexed. Bitty took the stairs (somehow this felt more covert than taking the elevator) to the third floor, and went to Study Room 317.

Bitty paused. Is this really what he wanted. He supposed, once again, that there was no harm in meeting the guy. He knocked, and the door opened.

Standing in the door was a young man wearing a Samwell hoodie and a pair of worn jeans. He was a few inches shorter than Bitty, with a very lean build. “Hey,” he said. “I'm Mack.”

“I'm...um...Mickey,” Bitty replied, suddenly panicking.

“Hey, Mickey. Is someone expecting you?”

“Um, I think, one person. How many people are in there?”

“Just me, so I guess I'm the one expecting you.”

He stepped back and let Bitty in, then closed and locked the door behind him. As Bitty turned, Mack grabbed his and pulled his face down into a kiss. Bitty was surprised, but not in a bad way, and he respond. Mack began to end the kisses by pushing between Bitty's lips and pulling them apart. Soon, he began to work his tongue into the action, slipping it quickly into the hockey player's mouth. Bitty complied, and began to push back. He felt a warmth rising in his chest, and he grabbed Mack's arms from his chin and chest and pushed them against the door. Mack moaned, and pushed his groin against Bitty's leg. Bitty lifted his head to take a breath, and Mack started kissing his neck and shoulders. Bitty left his head back and pushed back into Mack's crotch, and let the shorter boy's arms slip away.

Mack reached around and grabbed the two globes of Bitty's ass, first outside his sweatpants, and then slipping his hands inside and aggressive groping his backside. Bitty slid one hand behind Mack's head, and the other up his sweatshirt (underneath which, he discovered, the boy wore nothing), feeling his soft chest. Bitty leaned his head down and they continued to make out, their hands feeling around one another's bodies. After a few minutes, while Bitty had his hands in Mack's back pockets, and Mack was massaging Bitty's nipples through his shirt, Mack broke the kiss and pushed Bitty away.

Bitty stumbled backwards a few steps then took a couple more until he reached the

“Nice to meet you,” said Mack.

“Whoo, no kiddin'” said Bitty.

“So what's you're sport?” ask Mack, undoing his belt.

Bitty got nervous again. “Uh...I used to figure skate back in Georgia. You?”

“I cox for the JV crew team.” He unbuttoned the button of his jeans. “You don't play any sports here. You look familiar.”

“Uh...”

“You don't have to tell me,” Mack said, opening the fly and tugging his dick out of his boxer briefs. It was semi-hard, and about four or five inches long. Meanwhile, Bitty felt his own member straining in his sweatpants “I've got condoms in the front pocket of the bag. You can pick your flavor.”

Bitty sighed. “I can't.”

“No worries, I'm glad to share.”

“I'm sorry.”

“What. Do you want me to do you first? Or I can just ...”

“No,” said Bitty. “I just...I don't know if this is such a good idea.”

“Come on, live a Bittle.”

Bitty looked up quickly. “What did you say?” he almost shouted.

“Nothing, jeez. I was just saying you should take it easy. You know, live a little. But if you're so wound up, maybe this isn't a good idea.”

“No,” said Bitty, “it's not. I have to go.”

Bitty ran out of the study room Mack could even button his pants. He went back to the study table, grabbed his stuff, muttered “goodbye” to the Frogs, and went immediately down the stairs and out the front door, barely stopping to have his bag checked. He went right back to the Haus and up to his room, closing the door behind him and laying down on his bed in the dark.

He kicked off his shoes and lay there, fully clothed, and his mind racing. He was definitely attracted to Mack, and he definitely enjoyed what they had been doing up to that point. He wanted to be with guys, he had no doubts about that. But something about the interaction had thrown him. Had it been the randomness of the hookup, or the anonymousness? Would he be able to find someone to have real relationship with here? His teammates were supportive, but this was different. He longed for the connection, but was there one that he would be able to make? Bitty suddenly felt more alone than he had for a long time, certainly more than he had since moving into the house. He felt hot tears start to form in the corners of his eyes.

There was a knock on the door. Trying to control his voice, Bitty called “who is it?”

“Can I come in?” Jack asked from the other side.

“What do you need?”

“I've got a question about class.”

“Okay,” Bitty said, wiping away the tears and sitting up.

Jack came in and, without turning the light on, closed the door behind him. He walked over to Bitty's bed and pulled the desk chair over to sit next to his friend.

“How's it going?” Jack asked.

“Fine.”

“Are you sure,” asked Jack. “There's no 'H' in fine.”

Bitty giggled and tried to punch Jack playfully in the arm, but ended up missing and getting the team captain's torso. “Ouch, okay, I'll stop,” he joked, and soon they were both laughing.

“So you're feeling better,” he asked. “Chow texted me and said you left the library looking pretty upset. Anything you need to talk about?”

Bitty was glad it was dark and he couldn't see him blush. “I...uh...I'm just...”

“I think I've got a pretty good idea how you're feeling, eh. It's hard enough being an athlete with our crazy schedules and a student full time, finding time for a social life can be...well, let's just say I know the feeling of being both popular and lonely.”

“I'll bet you do, Jack.”

“After what that Jake kid said in WGSS120, I figured you might be especially thinking about that. And I see how it would be hard for you. You can't just hook up at a Kegster. Not that I would, mostly, but not having that option...So I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need to talk about it, I'm right across the hall.”

Jack reached out and gave Bitty an awkward pat on the side of his arm. Bitty smiled, and leaned into a hug, which Jack returned even more awkwardly.

“Get some sleep.”

“I can't,” Bitty said. “I've got a ton of work, and -”

“Stop. Baking can wait. Any assignments due tomorrow?”

“No, but...”

“Then take the night off. You could use it.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

“Don't mention it.”

Jack gave Bitty another friendly shove, got up, and left Bitty's room to go back to study. Bitty laid back in his bed, smiling, and drifted gently off to sleep.


End file.
